Recovery
by katieforpresident
Summary: With Rachel in New York, Finn is barely getting by. He has a girlfriend he doesn't love, and a life he's unhappy with. When Kurt tells Finn to take the initiative and recover his dreams – and his true love – what will Finn do?
1. Chapter 1

**Title:**Recovery

**Summary:**With Rachel in New York, Finn is barely getting by. He has a girlfriend he doesn't love, and a life he's unhappy with. When Kurt tells Finn to take the initiative and recover his dreams – and his true love – what will Finn do?

**Rating:**T

* * *

Airplanes are not my favorite things in the world. The seats are not even remotely comfortable and the cramped spaces are not good for tall, solid men. And then there's being _with_ large men on a flight. That makes my list of _not-so-favorite things_ too. Especially when you're ninety percent sure one of them plays for the same team as Kurt. Don't get me wrong, I don't have a problem with him being gay- I mean, my little brother is gay!- but I do have a problem with him touching my butt and then smiling at me like we have a dirty little secret. I think that even if I were gay, I'd be turned off by this guy.

I try to confront him about it. I tell him that I respect his lifestyle but we live two very different ones. I would appreciate if he would leave my…areas alone.

He still doesn't stop.

When the plane finally lands I look to the heavens to show my gratitude. I'm tempted to begin a little _hallelujah!_ ceremony, but I think some people might get a little freaked out. I satisfy myself with a thankful glance at the massive airport – freedom! – through the window, then quickly grab my bags from the top and head out.

The man still follows me. I hurry through the jetway, grab my one suitcase at the baggage claim, and fly through the terminal at a near run. When I reach the revolving doors leading to drop-off and pick-up areas, I turn around and catch a glimpse of glitter. Honestly, I'm getting a little freaked out. I wave down a taxi and when one pulls over, I jump in. The man gets in with me.

"Hello," I manage in a strangled voice.

He winks. "Hey."

"Listen, I'm not-" I begin, but the driver cuts me off.

"Where to?" He speaks gruffly, and I can tell he's a hard-core smoker.

"Uh…here." I hand him the address with a quick glance at the man next to me as the driver reads my scrawl out loud.

"Shocker." The man next to me says seductively. At least, I think it was supposed to be seductive. "I was just headed there myself."

I nod uneasily, wondering if this sort of thing is allowed. Maybe in New York, it's different. Maybe random glittery strangers hit on straight men all the time. Maybe, in New York, it's normal for people throw themselves into cabs with you and demand a ride to the same place you're going. Maybe.

As we ride, the man tries putting his hand on my knee. I move it back. He puts it there again.

"No." I say, my voice cracking mildly, "There-there's no need for that."

He smirks, but his hand returns to his own leg. I stare stiffly forward for the rest of the trip, trying to stealthily move myself towards the furthest door. My mind wanders, as always, to Rachel. What was I going to say to her when I saw her? I should say what they do in the movies. Tell her something that sounds majorly badass.

_Hey, Rach. I know what you've been dreaming about: Me. And I've come to make your dreams come true._

No, that's weird. Plus, what if that's not what she's been dreaming about at all? Kurt's voice sounded through my mind. _Tell her what you feel_.

_Hi, Rachel. I just wanted you to know something. You are beautiful. More beautiful than anyone I've ever met or seen. And I know that other kids always made fun of you but I've always been on your side. I've always known you were meant to be great._ I smile to myself, and then mentally add_ You've always _been_ great._

Sorry, Kurt, but that, also, was not going to happen. I've been telling her my true feelings for years, and we broke up. It obviously was not a good way to deal with things. I lied with Eliza all the time and our relationship was perfect.

I get out of the vehicle in a daze, forgetting about the man still in the backseat. I can feel myself getting nervous as I enter the apartment building. I still haven't decided what I'm going to say to her. I walk down the hall, not noticing anything else around me. Do I really think she's going to take me back? Do I really think she's even going to let me in? I'm stupid. This idea is stupid. Kurt is stupid. I should have never listened to him. I should've...

Too quickly, her door is in from of me. I wonder if the airlines will give me a free flight home. I came today, right? So returning me on the same day should be easy. Yeah. No. No! I came here for a reason. Breathing deeply, I lift a fist and knock on the door. My palms. Oh my God they're all sweaty. What if she tried to hand me something and it slips right from my palms? I should have never come here.

I felt a tickle in my ear and shake my head irritably. After a second, I feel it again. I turn around and see, with a start, the man from the taxi, lips puckered as he blows in my ear. I hold back a shudder.

"Hey." He smiles creepily.

I look back and forth from the door to him before resting my eyes on him, "You need to leave me alone. I'm trying to get something figured out." I say thinly.

"Let me help." He coos, and puts a hand on my waist.

I fight the urge to deck him and shove him off. "No. You have to go. I have no idea who you are or what you want, although I have a good guess on the second one." My mouth puckers with disgust at my last words.

The door opens with a creak and I turn and see Rachel's brown eyes peeking from the crack, her dark brown hair falling over her face. "Finn?" She whispers.

For a moment my world stops spinning. For a moment it's just me and her. For a moment I pretend she's all mine. For a moment, I'm back in my senior year, and Rachel and I are getting ready to take on the rest of the world together. But it's only a moment, and moments pass.

"Who is your…friend?" She asks tentatively, only taking her eyes off my face for a second.

I smile sweetly back at her. I'm not sure why, but I couldn't not do it. It was my instant reaction. It reminds me of when I was little, back when my mom would hold me down and tickle me. She would always say _Don't laugh, Finn, don't laugh!_ and then tickle me harder. Of course I had to laugh. Now was just like that. _Don't smile, Finn, don't smile... _But I can't help it. She is _right here._ Her high cheekbones and soft lips put Aphrodite to shame.

"I don't know him. He followed me from the airport." I say through a daze.

Her eyes widen. "Okay. Well, why don't you come in and…"She takes my hand. How can she not feel this? The spark that's so obvious, so complete. It's not even a spark, actually; it's a full-blown fire that never will stop burning, that will light any sky for miles.

She tries to lead me in through the door but the man is glued to my back. "No." She says to him as if he were a dog, "You….you can just stay out here." She tugs on my arm. I'm a hundred times stronger than her with her lithe frame, but all six feet two inches of me is jelly, and I am jerked through the doorway. The man tries getting in anyway, but Rachel slams the door before he can. The second the door clicks shut, all thoughts of glitter and gayness rush from my head. In this moment, I am utterly confident in my straightness.

Then it hits me. It is really _us_. Just me and her, in this apartment together. Nobody else is here to interrupt our world. I had forgotten how much I missed this little world of ours- the one we controlled so completely.

I'm trying to ignore how she looks right now. I'm trying not to focus on her golden-honey skin, or on her sleek curtain of hair, or her wide dark eyes that look up at me so innocently. I try to talk through my cotton-filled mouth.

"H-hey Rachel." Why did I just call her Rachel? I should have called her Rach. Loosened this tension that layers the air like a thick blanket. Or maybe I should have said something cool. Something that a major stud would have said. I should have been all _'hey babe, how's it shakin?'_

"Hi Finn." She replies evenly, simply.

Damn. Why am I scanning my brain looking for words when she can so easily produce them? I have to look cool. But I also have to tell her how I feel. Maybe I can get it across...indirectly.

"Rachel, you look like a donut." I smile proudly at my thought for a moment, but the minute I say it I realize it has not gone across like I had imagined.

Emotions battle across her face: irritation, amusement, and hurt. "Did you just call me fat?"

I try to wipe the shock away from my face the second it appears. Only second later, the panic sets in. This is it. I'm going to lose her. What did I think was going to happen, really? I would show up and she would fall into my arms and then I could just walk her to science class like we used to? That life is gone. It's a piece of history I need to erase from my memories so it can stop torturing me. The word _gone_ echoes in my mind for a few seconds and with it a dull ache forms in the pit of my stomach.

One look at her and I wonder how I messed that up, that thing that was _Finn and Rachel_ and _Rachel and Finn_. I always thought that she was like some supergirl; something so great and so perfect even I couldn't mess us up. But I was wrong and every minute since the break up reminds me if it.

"I only said donut because that's how I think of you. All sweet and all sugary and all..."

"Round?"she guesses. For a second I think I've angered her, but a smile spreads across her face. She's just waiting to see how far I'll dig myself into this hole.

I allow a grin of my own to stretch across my face. I know what I look like. When I smile my mouth spreads out across my face and my eyes squint at the edges. My nostrils flare and I've been told that I look like a toddler. But I can't find it in myself to care. Rachel makes me like this, and that shouldn't be taken away. What I look like doesn't matter when Rachel is in the room anyway – she outshines me no matter what. I mean that in not a rude or spiteful way, but in the best of ways. In the most truthful of ways.

Still smiling, I glance around. The apartment looks the way it had last time I'd been here.

Rachel notices me looking around and instantly snaps out of her genuine self and into a professional host.

"May I get you anything? I know you don't like coffee, but we have Earl Grey tea," she says in attempt to make the tea sound appetizing.

"No," I smile slightly, "no thank you. I don't like bergamot." Her head inclines towards me and she stares at me, confused. She looks like she doesn't recognize me when she speaks.

"I didn't think you'd know what Earl Grey tea was, much less that it had _bergamot_ in it."

I grin. "In most cases I wouldn't know what it is. But I'll bet Kurt is the one who got you to start drinking that." When she nods slowly, I continue. "I lived with him, so he tried to get me to drink it to. I never liked it much so Kurt made me try all these different things until he concluded I didn't like Earl Grey tea because I didn't like the bergamot."

Her mouth curls. "Well, maybe you'd like some chocolate milk or something while I drink my coffee?"

I let the muscles in my cheeks relax again into a smile. "Now we're talking."

She laughs noisily and it sounds though the small apartment. I once heard about someone who read a book that said a beautiful girl's laugh sounds like tinkling bells. Whoever said that was lying. Bells get annoying, with their constant chiming that grates at your ears . There is a point where you literally will do anything to stop bells' noise, but I will never hate of the sound of Rachel's laugh.

Too soon after it started, she cuts herself off. I'm not sure why at first, but then I remember. We're each other's ex. We broke up- split- separated- stopped seeing each other- not too long ago and we aren't allowed to be happy yet. We're supposed to hate each other. We're supposed to want to cry at the sight of each other. We're supposed to want to scream at each other.

But I don't feel that. I wanted to sing when I saw Rachel again for the first time since the break up. I wanted to scream the lyrics to every love song I'd ever heard and I wanted to run down the street so everyone could hear it.

Looking at her now, I know that I can't lie to myself anymore.

That urge to scream, to sing; that utter longing I felt for her?

I still feel it now. And it's not ever going to go away.

* * *

**Hi guys.** I would like to **thank you all** so much for the reviews, favorites, and follows. And, of course, just for reading. I hope you like this story as much as I do. Does that sound self-centered? Maybe, but let me **tell you a secret:** this isn't **my story**. I've made a FanFiction account (this one) for my friend - katie - and am editing and publishing her stories (with, of course, her total consent and approval.) **However**.

She is a **mood writer**. She writes when she is in a **good mood**. I have a limited amount of writing that she's sent me and that I can edit and publish- and **I want more! **I hope you guys do too.

I don't want to put up a review ultimatum - that's just not nice. What I'm doing is **giving you guys a chance.** If you would like this story to continue, **its up to you to put Katie in a good mood**. So please, help! Review, or favorite, or follow, or just send an encouraging PM. I forward all the reviews and PMs you send to me to her for her to read, so she definitely gets them.

**I really appreciate your help. Thank you and good luck!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:**Recovery

**Summary:**With Rachel in New York, Finn is barely getting by. He has a girlfriend he doesn't love, and a life he's unhappy with. When Kurt tells Finn to take the initiative and recover his dreams – and his true love – what will Finn do?

**Rating:**T

* * *

Airplanes are not my favorite things in the world. The seats are not even remotely comfortable and the cramped spaces are not good for tall, solid men. And then there's being _with_ large men on a flight. That makes my list of _not-so-favorite things_ too. Especially when you're ninety percent sure one of them plays for the same team as Kurt. Don't get me wrong, I don't have a problem with him being gay- I mean, my little brother is gay!- but I do have a problem with him touching my butt and then smiling at me like we have a dirty little secret. I think that even if I were gay, I'd be turned off by this guy.

I try to confront him about it. I tell him that I respect his lifestyle but we live two very different ones. I would appreciate if he would leave my…areas alone.

He still doesn't stop.

When the plane finally lands I look to the heavens to show my gratitude. I'm tempted to begin a little _hallelujah!_ ceremony, but I think some people might get a little freaked out. I satisfy myself with a thankful glance at the massive airport – freedom! – through the window, then quickly grab my bags from the top and head out.

The man still follows me. I hurry through the jetway, grab my one suitcase at the baggage claim, and fly through the terminal at a near run. When I reach the revolving doors leading to drop-off and pick-up areas, I turn around and catch a glimpse of glitter. Honestly, I'm getting a little freaked out. I wave down a taxi and when one pulls over, I jump in. The man gets in with me.

"Hello," I manage in a strangled voice.

He winks. "Hey."

"Listen, I'm not-" I begin, but the driver cuts me off.

"Where to?" He speaks gruffly, and I can tell he's a hard-core smoker.

"Uh…here." I hand him the address with a quick glance at the man next to me as the driver reads my scrawl out loud.

"Shocker." The man next to me says seductively. At least, I think it was supposed to be seductive. "I was just headed there myself."

I nod uneasily, wondering if this sort of thing is allowed. Maybe in New York, it's different. Maybe random glittery strangers hit on straight men all the time. Maybe, in New York, it's normal for people throw themselves into cabs with you and demand a ride to the same place you're going. Maybe.

As we ride, the man tries putting his hand on my knee. I move it back. He puts it there again.

"No." I say, my voice cracking mildly, "There-there's no need for that."

He smirks, but his hand returns to his own leg. I stare stiffly forward for the rest of the trip, trying to stealthily move myself towards the furthest door. My mind wanders, as always, to Rachel. What was I going to say to her when I saw her? I should say what they do in the movies. Tell her something that sounds majorly badass.

_Hey, Rach. I know what you've been dreaming about: Me. And I've come to make your dreams come true._

No, that's weird. Plus, what if that's not what she's been dreaming about at all? Kurt's voice sounded through my mind. _Tell her what you feel_.

_Hi, Rachel. I just wanted you to know something. You are beautiful. More beautiful than anyone I've ever met or seen. And I know that other kids always made fun of you but I've always been on your side. I've always known you were meant to be great._ I smile to myself, and then mentally add_ You've always _been_ great._

Sorry, Kurt, but that, also, was not going to happen. I've been telling her my true feelings for years, and we broke up. It obviously was not a good way to deal with things. I lied with Eliza all the time and our relationship was perfect.

I get out of the vehicle in a daze, forgetting about the man still in the backseat. I can feel myself getting nervous as I enter the apartment building. I still haven't decided what I'm going to say to her. I walk down the hall, not noticing anything else around me. Do I really think she's going to take me back? Do I really think she's even going to let me in? I'm stupid. This idea is stupid. Kurt is stupid. I should have never listened to him. I should've...

Too quickly, her door is in from of me. I wonder if the airlines will give me a free flight home. I came today, right? So returning me on the same day should be easy. Yeah. No. No! I came here for a reason. Breathing deeply, I lift a fist and knock on the door. My palms. Oh my God they're all sweaty. What if she tried to hand me something and it slips right from my palms? I should have never come here.

I felt a tickle in my ear and shake my head irritably. After a second, I feel it again. I turn around and see, with a start, the man from the taxi, lips puckered as he blows in my ear. I hold back a shudder.

"Hey." He smiles creepily.

I look back and forth from the door to him before resting my eyes on him, "You need to leave me alone. I'm trying to get something figured out." I say thinly.

"Let me help." He coos, and puts a hand on my waist.

I fight the urge to deck him and shove him off. "No. You have to go. I have no idea who you are or what you want, although I have a good guess on the second one." My mouth puckers with disgust at my last words.

The door opens with a creak and I turn and see Rachel's brown eyes peeking from the crack, her dark brown hair falling over her face. "Finn?" She whispers.

For a moment my world stops spinning. For a moment it's just me and her. For a moment I pretend she's all mine. For a moment, I'm back in my senior year, and Rachel and I are getting ready to take on the rest of the world together. But it's only a moment, and moments pass.

"Who is your…friend?" She asks tentatively, only taking her eyes off my face for a second.

I smile sweetly back at her. I'm not sure why, but I couldn't not do it. It was my instant reaction. It reminds me of when I was little, back when my mom would hold me down and tickle me. She would always say _Don't laugh, Finn, don't laugh!_ and then tickle me harder. Of course I had to laugh. Now was just like that. _Don't smile, Finn, don't smile... _But I can't help it. She is _right here._ Her high cheekbones and soft lips put Aphrodite to shame.

"I don't know him. He followed me from the airport." I say through a daze.

Her eyes widen. "Okay. Well, why don't you come in and…"She takes my hand. How can she not feel this? The spark that's so obvious, so complete. It's not even a spark, actually; it's a full-blown fire that never will stop burning, that will light any sky for miles.

She tries to lead me in through the door but the man is glued to my back. "No." She says to him as if he were a dog, "You….you can just stay out here." She tugs on my arm. I'm a hundred times stronger than her with her lithe frame, but all six feet two inches of me is jelly, and I am jerked through the doorway. The man tries getting in anyway, but Rachel slams the door before he can. The second the door clicks shut, all thoughts of glitter and gayness rush from my head. In this moment, I am utterly confident in my straightness.

Then it hits me. It is really _us_. Just me and her, in this apartment together. Nobody else is here to interrupt our world. I had forgotten how much I missed this little world of ours- the one we controlled so completely.

I'm trying to ignore how she looks right now. I'm trying not to focus on her golden-honey skin, or on her sleek curtain of hair, or her wide dark eyes that look up at me so innocently. I try to talk through my cotton-filled mouth.

"H-hey Rachel." Why did I just call her Rachel? I should have called her Rach. Loosened this tension that layers the air like a thick blanket. Or maybe I should have said something cool. Something that a major stud would have said. I should have been all _'hey babe, how's it shakin?'_

"Hi Finn." She replies evenly, simply.

Damn. Why am I scanning my brain looking for words when she can so easily produce them? I have to look cool. But I also have to tell her how I feel. Maybe I can get it across...indirectly.

"Rachel, you look like a donut." I smile proudly at my thought for a moment, but the minute I say it I realize it has not gone across like I had imagined.

Emotions battle across her face: irritation, amusement, and hurt. "Did you just call me fat?"

I try to wipe the shock away from my face the second it appears. Only second later, the panic sets in. This is it. I'm going to lose her. What did I think was going to happen, really? I would show up and she would fall into my arms and then I could just walk her to science class like we used to? That life is gone. It's a piece of history I need to erase from my memories so it can stop torturing me. The word _gone_ echoes in my mind for a few seconds and with it a dull ache forms in the pit of my stomach.

One look at her and I wonder how I messed that up, that thing that was _Finn and Rachel_ and _Rachel and Finn_. I always thought that she was like some supergirl; something so great and so perfect even I couldn't mess us up. But I was wrong and every minute since the break up reminds me if it.

"I only said donut because that's how I think of you. All sweet and all sugary and all..."

"Round?"she guesses. For a second I think I've angered her, but a smile spreads across her face. She's just waiting to see how far I'll dig myself into this hole.

I allow a grin of my own to stretch across my face. I know what I look like. When I smile my mouth spreads out across my face and my eyes squint at the edges. My nostrils flare and I've been told that I look like a toddler. But I can't find it in myself to care. Rachel makes me like this, and that shouldn't be taken away. What I look like doesn't matter when Rachel is in the room anyway – she outshines me no matter what. I mean that in not a rude or spiteful way, but in the best of ways. In the most truthful of ways.

Still smiling, I glance around. The apartment looks the way it had last time I'd been here.

Rachel notices me looking around and instantly snaps out of her genuine self and into a professional host.

"May I get you anything? I know you don't like coffee, but we have Earl Grey tea," she says in attempt to make the tea sound appetizing.

"No," I smile slightly, "no thank you. I don't like bergamot." Her head inclines towards me and she stares at me, confused. She looks like she doesn't recognize me when she speaks.

"I didn't think you'd know what Earl Grey tea was, much less that it had _bergamot_ in it."

I grin. "In most cases I wouldn't know what it is. But I'll bet Kurt is the one who got you to start drinking that." When she nods slowly, I continue. "I lived with him, so he tried to get me to drink it to. I never liked it much so Kurt made me try all these different things until he concluded I didn't like Earl Grey tea because I didn't like the bergamot."

Her mouth curls. "Well, maybe you'd like some chocolate milk or something while I drink my coffee?"

I let the muscles in my cheeks relax again into a smile. "Now we're talking."

She laughs noisily and it sounds though the small apartment. I once heard about someone who read a book that said a beautiful girl's laugh sounds like tinkling bells. Whoever said that was lying. Bells get annoying, with their constant chiming that grates at your ears . There is a point where you literally will do anything to stop bells' noise, but I will never hate of the sound of Rachel's laugh.

Too soon after it started, she cuts herself off. I'm not sure why at first, but then I remember. We're each other's ex. We broke up- split- separated- stopped seeing each other- not too long ago and we aren't allowed to be happy yet. We're supposed to hate each other. We're supposed to want to cry at the sight of each other. We're supposed to want to scream at each other.

But I don't feel that. I wanted to sing when I saw Rachel again for the first time since the break up. I wanted to scream the lyrics to every love song I'd ever heard and I wanted to run down the street so everyone could hear it.

Looking at her now, I know that I can't lie to myself anymore.

That urge to scream, to sing; that utter longing I felt for her?

I still feel it now. And it's not ever going to go away.

* * *

**Hi guys.** I would like to **thank you all** so much for the reviews, favorites, and follows. And, of course, just for reading. I hope you like this story as much as I do. Does that sound self-centered? Maybe, but let me **tell you a secret:** this isn't **my story**. I've made a FanFiction account (this one) for my friend - katie - and am editing and publishing her stories (with, of course, her total consent and approval.) **However**.

She is a **mood writer**. She writes when she is in a **good mood**. I have a limited amount of writing that she's sent me and that I can edit and publish- and **I want more! **I hope you guys do too.

I don't want to put up a review ultimatum - that's just not nice. What I'm doing is **giving you guys a chance.** If you would like this story to continue, **its up to you to put Katie in a good mood**. So please, help! Review, or favorite, or follow, or just send an encouraging PM. I forward all the reviews and PMs you send to me to her for her to read, so she definitely gets them.

**I really appreciate your help. Thank you and good luck!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:**Recovery

**Summary:**With Rachel in New York, Finn is barely getting by. He has a girlfriend he doesn't love, and a life he's unhappy with. When Kurt tells Finn to take the initiative and recover his dreams – and his true love – what will Finn do?

**Rating: **T

* * *

I watch her move from cabinet to cabinet. She must be paying close attention in those dance classes, I note. She's always been lithe, but this is different. This is grace, this is elegance, this is…

This is Rachel, I realize. This is the new her. The one that doesn't make mistakes. And to her, that's what I am, aren't I? A mistake. A shudder ripples through my shoulders, but she's been facing the opposite direction. I feel like that a lot, lately. Like these emotions keep tearing at me but everyone is so busy paying attention to something else that they can't see them. I'm not invisible; I'm just not worth detecting. I'm not going to draw attention to myself, because I'm not completely sure I want people to see this in me. They will think me weak; they will think me frail and pathetic.

The part that hurts the most is that we were almost there. We were almost to the rest of our lives. I still have so much I want her to know, and so much I should have told her, but it's too late. Since we broke up, I'll never know. I'll never know how it could have been. The future had seemed so bright when I was younger, but I know it's suffocating me under its weight. I had been so sure that even when I hit the bottom, she would help raise me to the top, but I don't have that anymore. Everywhere I go, I see her. Kurt yelled at me for an hour once on the way home from the mall because I kept getting distracted. One minute, I'd be listening to the latest 'fashion'; the next minute, I saw it: The flash of brown hair, the soft brown eyes, the short little stature. From that point on I'd be completely taken from this planet and thrown onto another. I'd watch the girl walk by away until I was sure it wasn't her. After I'd determine it wasn't, I'd kick myself for it. How could I think she'd come back for me? But before I could get any further, I'd be gone again.

She turns to me now, her hair swiping across her shoulder in a fluid motion. I ache to tell her how beautiful she is. I want to wrap my arms around her and tuck her head under my chin. I want to feel her heart race against my own. I push the thoughts aside but they refuse to disappear completely.

"So…" She starts. "What do you want to talk about?"

I'm not thinking when I speak. Every piece of her swirls in my head, leaving it a thick fog. Every time I ever touched her, every time we kissed race through my mind. I dream of all those times I said something stupid just to make her smile and each time I had seen her walking down the hallway. She'd been the first girl who could make everything else blur. Everything about her would sharpen, every bit of her face in high definition, while all the others would fade into a soft glow that formed around her. I remember seeing her down the hallway and being struck, thinking I wanted to kiss her. I didn't want to take it any further than that, but I knew with every cell in my body that I wanted to kiss her. I recall the way I couldn't seem to look away when she is walking towards me, or the way I had memorize the way her shampoo smelled. "Come home." I say quietly, my voice drowning in longing.

Her eyes widen. I consider taking it back but I haven't quite returned to Earth.

"Finn," She sighs, but doesn't continue, "This is my home now. I can't go back to Lima."

"Lima isn't your home." I plead, "But neither is New York. Your home is with me, just like my home is with you."

She clenches her jaw but I can see my words have reached her. She doesn't want to say it, but she knows I am right. She knows that we are the couple in all the love songs- the one worth fighting for. "I'm with Brody now." She says firmly, as if trying to tell herself as well as me.

I feel her words sting against my skin as if she'd hit me. Why? I wonder. I knew it would happen eventually. I knew he liked her and I'd predicted that when she could be with anyone, she'd go first to him, so why did it hurt so much? Because I never wanted to really accept she would get over me. Because I thought that no matter what, she would always come back to me. Because I thought that our love story is one that would never end. I was wrong.

My phone begins to buzz wildly in my pocket, but I let it ring.

I wake up to a dull buzz in my arm and realize it had fallen asleep while I'd been out cold on Rachel's couch. I bite my lip as irritation surges though my body. I curse the cloudy burn that runs though my arm as I walk over to the kitchen of her apartment. I open the cupboards and begin a search for food that could, potentially, make me less hungry. I respect Rachel's choice of being a vegan, but the food she eats does absolutely nothing for me. I'm always left with room in my stomach. I gather that nothing appetizing is in the cabinet I'm looking into, and close it. I run my hand along the counter as I make my way to another when it skims across a piece of paper.

She didn't have to sign her name; I know her handwriting. _At school. Be home around 4._ The cursive swirls on the page. My eyes drift over the signature and a familiar ache forms in my abdomen. It is the one that remembers she's changed. Where a gold star had always been place, securely next to her name, is a blank spot of white. I don't know why it hurts so badly to not see the gold shimmering. I suppose it's because I thought I'd never have to deal with it not being there.

_You're thinking too deeply about this_. I tell myself and I back away. A sticker is nothing to stress about- or at least that's what I tell myself.

Coming to the assumption that I'll find nothing even remotely appealing to me, I choose to go out for breakfast. I dress quickly and leave the apartment, and make my way out the door, down the stairs, and through the exit of the building. Once the air hits me I look up to scan the sky's blue. For a minute I see it: Why she loves it here. Something about New York is just so…extraordinary. There is no little particular thing but just the overall atmosphere. Artists sing and drum on the streets, trying to make a name for themselves. A man in a suit races through the intersection, with a wide-eye child behind him. A young woman and man walk slowly through the streets, her body slightly turning into him. He speaks to her, his face soft, and she smiles at the ground as they hold hands. A group of friends laugh loudly from the street corner, each one of their eyes lit with excitement. Car pass and birds fly carelessly though the air.

I make my way to a small restaurant, where I proceed to have my meal. It tastes amazing, and I wonder if Kurt has ever been here. He'd like it. I promise myself I'll bring him sometime, then pay for my food and leave. I consider going home, but something draws me forward into the city. I want to see it. I want to experience this part of the world Lima could never offer me.

[Insert here more about Finn in City later on but right now I have more important things to do]

I begin my walk up the steps when I first hear the screaming. Rachel's voice breaks through the space in the air. I break into a sprint as my muscles sting, but the adrenaline forces itself though my veins and acts like anesthesia, making it impossible for me to really feel any of it. With every few steps I take, another scream sounds through the building, awful and horrifying. My pulse plays a rhythm close to my ears and I push my way though doors. The further up I get, the more I realize the screams weren't formless, like I'd thought. They're a word. It is _Finn_. She is yelling Finn. She is yelling for me.

When I finally reach the door to her apartment, I shove it open. The lights are dim and glass is in a layer on the floor. It's a wonder that I notice any of it though, because my eyes instantly find her. She trembles heavily and blood flows on her hand from a straight cut on her palm. Brody's arms are wrapped around her, tightly, and I can hear him trying to speak to her.

"Calm down, baby. Calm down." I hear him say repeatedly, rocking her back and forth. His voice is smooth and secure but his eyes have no mask to shield the fear threatening to burst forth.

"What happened?" My voice roughly comes out, the syllables strained.

Rachel continues to shake like she hasn't heard me at all. She is lost in her own little world and can't come out of the trance. Brody's eyes fixate on me, and, for once, are not full of hate or superiority. They're pleading.

"Someone broke in through the window." He speaks quickly, my eyes flickering over the broken window then to the shattered glass on the floor before returning to him, "They didn'y get anything but they scared the shit out of her." He battles with the next words, seeming to debate on whether to say them or not. Quietly, he whispers, "She won't stop calling for you."

As if on cue, Rachel lets out another blood-curdling cry. Her eyes squeeze tightly together and her legs wrap harshly to her chest. Every inch of her body is locked into position, and tremors rock through her. Rivulets of tears decorate her face, and hair is matted to her cheeks.

Something about the appearance brings me a memory. When I was a child, I had read a book about a princess. She is a beautiful princess, so wonderful and sweet. Something, though, made the princess turn cold. Where she had been nice before, she was now cruel. How her hands had once been gentle, they turned to stone. The eyes that once danced with joy now froze the seas. Everyone wonderd, but nobody ever dared ask what had happened to the princess. The princess stayed on the Earth, for as long as she could manage, her resentment ruling the world as her generosity once had. One day, the princess was found dead. Some said it was a suicide, and others said it was a murder, because her heart had gotten so rotten. Either way, the Princess was set six feet in the ground, and no one, not a single person, every thought of her again.

"Rachel." I say stiffly into the space between us. Cold air drifts into the room though the broken pane but I don't let my voice quiver.

Her eyes glare at me for a second. Pure hatred pours from them as quickly as possible. Her loathing of me makes no sense. Am I not the person she'd just been begging to see?

_Don't let this turn you cold,_ I urge inside my head.

"Rachel." I whisper more softly, more soothingly.

The revulsion evaporates. For a minute, I am grateful, thinking she's regained sanity. But before I can release my breath she screams again. My name tears through the apartment, and her body shakes once again. Her trance returns, and I see Brody's face twist with agony.

"Baby. Baby. Baby, calm down." He starts again.

I walk over numbly, having no idea of what I'm going to do. But once I reach her, it comes so naturally. I lift Brody's hand from hers and he meets my eyes. He nods once when he realizes that he can't help her. There is absolutely nothing he can do to bring her back.

My hand replaces his before I slide one up to her cheek. Shudders ripple through her and the clatter of her teeth against one another send a cold shiver though my spine. I guide her head to lean onto my shoulder and I let her body hold ridged against my own, larger frame. I focus on my breathing, hoping it is slow enough to count as reassuring. Rachel's mouth opens and I think she is going to speak to me, but a shout slashes though silence. I grab her chin and force her to look at me. I set my face inches from hers and try to ignore the fog that begins obscuring my mind. I shouldn't be thinking about how beautiful she is. I shouldn't be thinking about how I want to kiss her. I shouldn't be thinking that I still love her.

"Rachel, " I breathe, "Listen to me, okay? Focus on my voice. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

A sob sounds though her and her frame falls against mine in a limp, sloppy manner. Her fingers cling to the material of my shirt and she buries her face against my chest. I feel tears soak though the material of my shirt and I allow my arms to wrap around her tightly. I close my eyes and lean in to kiss the top of her head.

"D-Don't leave me." She begs, "Don't leave me."

My fingers twirl into her hair and I hold her on my lap, "I'm not going to leave you. I'm going to be right here, okay?"

Her eyes gaze up to me, rimmed in bright red. "Promise me, Finn. Promise me you won't leave me again."

Again? I wonder, then remember.

The train station.

I bury my face into her hair and speak as firmly as I can, "I'm not leaving you, Rachel. I'm never going to leave you."

* * *

**Thank you so much** to those who reviewed and sent **kind words** our way! As always, **reviews are love**. A writer **thrives **off the **support **of others. :)

A quick shoutout to **Gleeful Canuck - **without you, this chapter wouldn't be here.


	4. Chapter 4

*Uhm...Hi there. This is Katie and I don't really know what I'm doing (It took me twenty minutes to find this page to update the story) so I apologize if anything is...well, not as it should be. I'm pretty sure I checked for mistakes but if you find one let me know and I'll try my best to correct it. I wanted to recognize Cory Monteith's death. By now I'm sure you've heard about it and since you are on this page, I'd be willing to bet you're a fan- perhaps not a die-hard like me, but a fan all the same- and are upset about this tragedy. I know a lot of people have cancelled their Fanfics and, if it's causing you emotional distress, that may have been the best thing for you. However, I want to urge as many of you as I can to** keep writing**. Cory was taken from us very abruptly and I, very selfishly, am not really ready to let him go yet. I feel like this can be our way of keeping his memory with us. I loved Finn. I could be a poster-child for the term "fangirl" because my cousin and I would call each other before every episode and stay on line throughout it. Then we would squeal and scream when he came on but would only talk during commercials to not distract from the show. However much i loved Finn, I loved Cory equally. He will be greatly missed. *

Rachel's Perspective

I glance around the street, not really seeing any of it. I've walked up and down this road six times in the past ten minutes, yet I can't quite bring myself to leave it. It's probably the only street in New York City that isn't cramped endlessly with traffic, but I think that may be the part I love about it. It makes me feel like I'm in Lima again. Not that Lima was ever a safe haven, for I was mercilessly picked on, but it was secure. Everything was figured out and all I had to do was put things into action.

I checked the clock. Six O'clock. Part of my mind urges me to go home, but is instantly silenced. I _can't_ go home. Every time I do I get these…looks. They aren't _bad_ so to speak, but belittling. Gazes of concern and sympathy. I don't know how many more "sorry you've gone insane" glances I can bear. News had spread about my little scene and I was sent to a shrink for a couple of sessions. It didn't help. When I spoke to her, I felt like it had never really happened. It was as if I had read about it or saw it on the news instead of through experience. I considered trying to talk to Brody, but we've been avoiding the subject. We slapped a Band-Aid on it and moved on. Still, I know it hurt him that I hadn't called out for him instead. Lately, we've been doing a dance around each other. We talk about vague things- weather, school, and TV programs- to keep from digging to deep. I'm thankful for this. I'm afraid that if I explore too deep into my emotions, I won't like what I'll find.

"Don't rain on my parade" erupted from my pocket. Sighing, I reached down to check the caller ID.

Finn.

I bit my lip and pressed until I was conscious of the pain. _Answer the phone_ I scolded myself_ What are_ _you so afraid of?_

"Hello?" I said quietly into the phone.

"Rachel. You need to come home." Finn's voice streamed through the receiver, "You haven't been inside this house for two weeks."

"That's I lie," I said quickly. Then slowed, weighing each word, trying to see what would sound less insane, "I have to sleep there every night, after all."

"Yes, but you leave before anyone wakes up and come back after we've all gone to sleep." He sounded strained, like he had just climbed Mount Everest while arguing with Kurt on why Baby blue is better than Royal Blue.

"I'll be home in twenty minutes, Finn." I lied through the phone.

"Promise me, Rach. Promise you'll be home in twenty minutes."

I bit the inside of my cheek, "Fine. _Fine._ Yeah, I promise."

He sighed, and I could feel him relax through the phone, "Thank you." He breathed.

_Finn called nineteen minutes ago_. I stood outside my apartment door. _I don't have to go in for another whole minute._ I did promise twenty, after all, not anything below that. I glanced down at my hands and forced them to unclench. I had always been a drama queen, it's true, but this was getting ridiculous. This was my house! There was absolutely no reason for me to be so terrified.

My phone flashed and my minute was up. Breathing deeply, I opened the door. Nobody was in the kitchen or living room. I was all alone. _So far, so good._ I calmed slightly at the thought of being able to be alone, but then tensed again. I was so confused all the time recently. I wanted to be alone so I wouldn't be pressured to talk to people, but I never wanted to be alone in fear of someone breaking in again. I wasn't quite as afraid anymore to the idea of someone coming in. Finn had upped the securing around the place so I wouldn't have to worry.

Lost in thought, I barely heard the bedroom door open.

I watched him walk in the room. A sudden thrill ran through me but I pushed back the shiver it caused. _He will break you_, I reminded myself. _He will take your heart and shatter it._ I replayed the scene in my head. The train station, the pain, my head flying hundreds of feet above my body. To tell you I was upset would be a lie. That came later. At first, my whole body went into shock. I wasn't sure if it shut down or what happened, but I couldn't feel a thing. Tears escaped my eyes and I had felt my face contort into an ugly, pain ridden mask, but it all felt distant. I was numb. A part of me left my body, and stayed away for weeks. Finally, when I could feel again, the hurt began to claw at me from the inside. My entire body ached with longing and I had called Kurt, more than a few times, just to see if he would mention Finn's name.

Then Brody came. I couldn't tell you what it was, but something about Brody was on fire. He felt warm, and I hadn't felt that way since Finn had done what he did. He could be so irritating, made me so self-conscious, or cause me to cry, but when I felt that warmth, I decided it was worth it. I was finally happy again, and I wasn't going to let it go this time. I would force it to work. I was afraid it would be the only thing that could keep me sane. Try as I might, I couldn't help but compare. And even though the thoughts brought back pain, Finn always would come out with the upper hand. Brody would forget to hold the door open. He didn't to hold my groceries for me. He didn't leave me flowers before my big test. They were things I had missed about Finn, but I refused to see it that way.

One night, I dreamt of Finn. I mean, I did often, but this night was peculiar. I was on an upper level, overlooking a stage. The stage was beautiful, the kind that simply beckoned to me. Santana suddenly appeared by my side. I smiled at her warmly, still feeling the glow of the stage. "He's so annoying." She began. I had been confused, not sure who she spoke about. "And my God, so ugly." I furrowed my brow, but said nothing. A soft, male voice echoed off the walls. Moments later, I realized it came from the stage. The moment I looked, I knew it was him. I was surprised I hadn't known from the voice. Santana continued a string of insults beside me but I couldn't hear. I let my eyes search him carefully, taking in every detail. Small things had changed, but he was still beautiful.

When I was younger, I thought it was impossible for a man to be beautiful. Only women were beautiful, but when I saw him, that was all I could think. I thought for sure that God must have smiled when he put Finn together. His eyes suddenly moved to mine. If had I been awake, I know what would have happened: I would have glanced quickly around and made it seem like an accident that I had even looked his way. I would have stared at the ground, walk by and cursed the blush in my cheeks silently. But I wasn't awake. His eyes held mine, and I couldn't let go. I didn't want to. I wanted to hold onto his gentle brown eyes as long as I could. I wanted to stare, for hours on end, into them. I woke up, then, but I couldn't get those eyes out of my head. Four hours later, he showed up in my doorstep.

A dignified Rachel Berry walked up the door from inside the apartment. She was new, she was brave, she was fierce, and she could handle everything herself. But a different Rachel Berry stared through the open doorframe. She was annoying, she was loud, and she was madly in love with Finn Hudson. It took everything in her to not kiss him. The minute his eyes lifted to meet hers, all her self- control was lost. Smashed. Shattered, it lied at her feet in tiny pieces on the floor. She conjured up every ounce of sanity she had and out her acting skills to use but, boy, did he still look beautiful.

"Rach?" A voice asked quietly, shaking me out of my memories. Finn grinned at me crookedly.

My head began to swim. _Get ahold of yourself_, I thought sharply. "Yes?" I said, my voice sounding confident and assured.

"How are you?" I bit my lip and resisted d the urge to roll my eyes. After my melt down, I was asked every ten minutes if I was alright.

I shot him my award-winning smile "Incredible. I'm doing incredible."

Finn looked me over, doubting. I grabbed him chin and forced him to look me in the eye. I should have known it was a bad idea, but the minute I touched him, my heart began a gymnastic routine. Twists and turns pulled at my insides, bit I ignored them as much as possible. The way he looked at me didn't help. I could almost see something in his eyes, like maybe his heart was doing the same thing. "Look at me." I whispered, instinctively inching his face closer to mine. I wanted to kiss him, God, I wanted to kiss him. His gaze scanned me over once more and I grabbed his hand lightly, placing it on my cheek. "See? Perfectly fine." I breathed.

"Good morning" Brody sighed, walking into the room and stretching. Instantly, Finn's hand dropped from my face like my touch burned him. Immediately I felt cool air replace the heat from his hand and it bit at my skin.


End file.
